


Hello Baby

by Bogsung_a



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: (in flashbacks) - Freeform, (lots of it), Age Regression/De-Aging, Baby Lee Taeyong, Fluff, Hinted Mark Lee / Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Kissing, Light Angst, Like a literal baby he turns into a child, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic elements, Mentions of alcohol, Soft Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun, This is just 127 doting on baby Taeyong, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27826168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bogsung_a/pseuds/Bogsung_a
Summary: Yuta squints his eyes too. Without too much of a thought, he hollers, “Hey Kid!” Dongyoung, in the background groans a: ‘Yuta, for fucks sake.’ “How old are you?”With eyes as big as the moon, little Taeyong looks at his hand and raises four chubby fingers to them. “Taeyongie is this.”Confused, Mark looks at Johnny and Jaehyun with furrowed brows, “Wait, in Korean years or–?”“Fuck, he’s a baby.”“What did I fucking tell you about cursing?”
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 28
Kudos: 366
Collections: NCT Bigbang Round 1





	Hello Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Or the one where 127 wake up to find that Taeyong has turned into a baby.
> 
> Thank you Ani for being the most awesome beta ever! I had such a blast working with you, thank you for all your input and help––also sorry for always adding things when you already finished one part. 
> 
> Mathi, who help me with her kind words, a big thank you! 
> 
> To my artist, the wonderful Rys! Thank you for the adorable art! Thanks for picking me even when the plot was kind of weird.

Jaehyun’s _pretty_ sure he’s still dreaming.   
  
Or else, why would the acute voice of Lee Donghyuck be the first thing he’s hearing at the moment? Why would he be blasting his ears at _fucking_ _5:00 AM_ on a Saturday?   
  
On his _free day_?   
  
Jaehyun closes his eyes and presses his face to his— _actually_ Taeyong’s— pillow. Breathing in the sweet rose scent that’s still lingering even after a few days, Jaehyun lets it engulf him, lulling him back to sleep.   
  
Unaware of Jaehyun’s plans, Donghyuck continues spitting words like rapid fire and frantically asks—no, _commands_ — Jaehyun to come down to the 5th floor. Right.this.instance.   
  
“Did you and Mark fight again?” Jaehyun blabbers sleepily, body curling to his side. He tries not to get angry at Donghyuck, he really tries, but he wasn’t able to sleep much yesterday and to be honest, he’s getting kind of tired of being the mediator in the _whatevership_ that those two have.   
  
“What? No! Hyung–“  
  
“Just ignore him, he’ll come around.”   
  
At the other side of the call, Donghyuck cries in frustration, a string of colorful curses leaving his lips—Johnny’s doing.   
  
“ _Jaehyun_ , listen to me,” In the back of his head, an alarm pops up. If not by the swift way of Hyuck's speech, it’s the hint of hysteria in his usual carefree tone. "You have to come. _Now_.”   
  
The pause that follows is heavy with dread and that, without warning, settles uncomfortably inside Jaehyun’s stomach. An unwelcome weight making itself a home there.   
  
That sense of dread increases tenfold when Donghyuck says _his_ name.   
  
Jaehyun’s eyes open with a snap at the frightened tone that laces Donghyuck’s voice when Taeyong’s name leaves his lips.   
  
His body moves on its own. Jaehyun scrambles fast from his bed, frantically searching for a shirt as he grips his phone for dear life.   
  
When Donghyuck speaks again, Jaehyun presses the device into his ear with more force than necessary.   
  
“He woke up this morning and–”  
  
There’s rustling and low murmurs on the other side of the line as Jaehyun makes his way out of his room, clumsily trying not to trip over his feet.   
  
When Donghyuck’s airy voice is replaced by Dongyoung’s dry one, Jaehyun knows it's bad.   
  
“Come. Now.”   
  
Jaehyun’s heart is two beats away from jumping out of his ribcage.   
  
The two minutes it takes for Jaehyun to run through the 105 steps between their floors would have been impressive any other day. Right now, he’s too busy trying to push the drowsiness down his throat with every deep breath he takes.  
  
As he knocks on the door of Taeyong’s dorm room, Jaehyun tries to remember the breathing exercises the older had taught him when he was 17 and scared of going into his trainee evaluations.   
  
This time, it doesn't do much.  
  
As soon as the door opens Jaehyun pushes past Dongyoung without saying a word. His eyes frantically move to the living room, searching for the dark eyes or the inky locks of Taeyong’s hair. He sharpens his ear, trying to catch Taeyong’s breathy voice calling his name.   
  
He finds none.   
  
“W-Where is he?, Is he okay?.”   
  
“Yes, I mean–” stammers Dongyoung, moving his hands around himself in silent comfort. Jaehyun has never seen him so nervous. It’s unsettling. “First you have to calm down–”   
  
“Where.is.he?.” Jaehyun interrupts him, gruff. The dread setting on his stomach only increases when Dongyoung turns to not meet his eyes anymore. “What’s going on?”   
  
“Keep it down.” Comes Johnny’s voice from the hallway. The calm, almost nonchalant tone in his voice sends a wave of annoyance down Jaehyun’s back. “You’ll wake up the baby.”   
  
“What the fuck are–” Jaehyun halts, words stuck at his throat when he turns to look at Johnny, only to find a sleepy little figure nodding off in the taller arms.   
  
A mop of straight black hair with a long fringe that falls across closed eyes. Long lashes that fan across round rosy cheeks. A cute button nose.  
  
Jaehyun moves closer, as if in a trance, until he’s standing in front of Johnny and–   
  
He does a double take, his eyes moving across the sleeping face, his hazy brain trying to understand what is going on.   
  
Those eyes, nose, lips…  
  
Jaehyun feels a pang in his chest when a horrible realization dawns to him.   
  
He _knows_ this child.   
  
In fact, Jaehyun’s own phone background was a picture of this same little kid. He had picked it from a bunch of baby pictures Taeyong had sent him some days ago.   
  
His brain’s going a mile per hour, leaving him unable to form a coherent thought. It doesn’t help either that the child, as if sensing Jaehyun’s hard stare, finally opens his eyes.   
  
Jaehyun nearly chokes when, looking back at him, are Taeyong’s familiar starry eyes.   
  
“Good morning sleepy head,” coos Johnny, pressing a light kiss at the top of Taeyong’s head. “How are we feeling?”  
  
Johnny’s deep voice seems to pull Taeyong out of his sleepiness. With the slightest furrow on his eyebrows, he looks up at the smiling man holding him, before turning to look back at Jaehyun and the rest.  
  
And then, Taeyong’s lower lip begins to quiver.  
  
Taeyong’s heart wrenching screams echo through the whole dorm and are only interrupted once in a while by one harrowing sob. His face is red and there’s big fat tears rolling down his chubby cheeks.   
  
The first to move is Johnny. He begins to bounce the crying boy helplessly in his arms, gently asking him to calm down. Next is Dongyoung, who flies next to Johnny and picks Taeyong up. In a voice gentler than Johnny’s, he asks Taeyong if he’s hurt, if he’s okay.   
  
It does nothing to calm the boy down. In fact, it only pushes Taeyong to scream even louder, if that’s possible.  
  
Taeyong twists and turns in Dongyoung’s hold, his little legs pushing their friend’s chest, as he tries to break free. Donghyuck moves then, seeking to take the boy from Dongyoung’s embrace, but Taeyong, with all the force of an angry kid, pushes away with one hand while the other moves above Dongyoung’s shoulder; his little fingers pointing at–   
  
Feet moving on their own accord, Jaehyun quickly makes his way to Dongyoung and takes the crying Taeyong from his hold.   
  
It’s a force of habit, one that Jaehyun’s grandmother did to him whenever he would cry. Carefully, he presses one, two, three kisses to Taeyong’s wet cheeks, and between each peck, Jaehyun coos words of encouragement to appease the crying boy.   
  
It takes a lot of words and even more kisses for Taeyong’s screams to turn into quiet sobs. He lets his little body go lax on Jaehyun’s hold and buries his face in the crook of Jaehyun’s neck, whimpering quietly against his skin.   
  
It’s…heartbreaking.  


* * *

  
When Taeyong finally calms down (one hour later and 20 replay’s of the same cute dog’s compilation), the rest of 127 are all hunched together in the living room.   
  
Dongyoung had asked Jaehyun to clean Taeyong’s face so he could look more _presentable_. So Jaehyun takes a grumpy Taeyong to the bathroom to clean up. He takes a pink towel from the counter, and with warm water, begins to clean Taeyong’s plump cheeks and big eyes.   
  
There was nothing he could do about Taeyong’s clothes though. Since the thought of one of them waking up as a child wasn’t on anyone’s plans there were no toddler clothes in their dorm. So Dongyoung would have to settle for Taeyong’s white shirt masking as a nightgown for the moment.   
  
Jaehyun makes his way to the living-room quietly, not looking to disturb or scare his members with what he knows is going to be quite the scene. He knows Johnny and the other are filling them in, but still.   
  
Seeing Taeyong like this…it’s quite a shock.   
  
Surprisingly, they take the news pretty well. Sure, Taeil gets a coughing fit when he spots the child in Jaehyun’s arms and Mark looks like he’s about to cry whenever he locks eyes with Taeyong’s but hey, Jaehyun will count it as a win.   
  
“So you’re saying that this kid,” says Yuta, his feline eyes fixed on Taeyong who’s blabbing against Jaehyun’s chest. “Is Taeyong?”  
  
Johnny nods solemnly. Yuta snorts in disbelief. “ _Yeah right_. Do you think I’m stupid?”  
  
“Yes.”   
  
“Listen here you–”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck wails. He looks like he is going to cry too. “It’s just that…Hyung he–”  
  
“Does he even know who we are?” asks Jungwoo, meekly.  
  
“He seemed to have recognized Jaehyun Hyung.” says Donghyuck playing with Mark’s fingers. A nervous tic he picked only recently.   
  
“We don’t really know if he does,” adds Johnny with a sigh. “That could be just Taeyong being Taeyong.”  
  
Jaehyun pushes back the wave of embarrassment he senses coming through him. He knows he has failed when he can feel his ear burn with shame.  
  
“Taeyongie?” Dongyoung’s face is pulled in a gentle smile, he asks in a even gentler tone, “Do you know who these uh, _hyungs_ are?”   
  
They all wait with bated breath for Taeyong, who still has his face snuggled into Jaehyun’s neck. Dongyoung repeats his question, this time slower than before. With a little prodding from Jaehyun (in the form of a little kiss on top of the child’s head), Taeyong nods.   
  
“Well, that’s worse. It’s not that he’s scared of us, he just hates us.”   
  
“Wait. He is _trapped_ there?” asks Taeil, terrified.   
  
“That’s fucked up.”   
  
“No, that’s good, it means he has some recollection of who he is.”   
  
“Is it?” Spats Dongyoung, still with the gentle tone as if not wanting to scare little Taeyong. Nevertheless, he sounds terrifying.   
  
“How could it be bad?”   
  
“Oh I don’t know… _How about_ ,” Dongyoung mocks before raising his hands pointing at the kid snuggled in Jaehyun’s chest, “the fact that my best friend is a toddler?”   
  
Squinting his eyes at the child in front of him, Jungwoo asks, “How old do you think he is?”  
  
Yuta squints his eyes too. Without too much of a thought, he hollers, “Hey Kid!” Dongyoung, in the background groans a: _‘Yuta, for fucks sake.’_ “How old are you?”   
  
With eyes as big as the moon, little Taeyong looks at his hand and raises four chubby fingers to them. “Taeyongie is this.”  
  
Confused, Mark looks at Johnny and Jaehyun with furrowed brows, “Wait, in Korean years or–?”   
  
“Fuck, he’s a baby.”  
  
“What did I fucking tell you about cursing?”   
  
Not liking where this conversation is going, Jaehyun pulls out his phone and searches for one of the random games he had downloaded to play at Inkigayo backstage. He checks if his shattered screen could hurt Taeyong by passing on a finger against the cracked glass and only when he’s sure it won’t, he hands Taeyong the device.   
  
Excited, Taeyong presses his palm against the screen, trying to start the game but he groans in annoyance when he fails to do so. He looks up, head tilted at the side like a little kitten and raises the phone to Jaehyun.  
  
“Beep-beep?”   
  
“Oh, you have to use your fingers, like this.” Jaehyun takes Taeyong’s chubby hand, hiding all his fingers except for one.  
  
It’s heart wrenching how Taeyong’s happy noises as a child are the same as an adult.   
  
Jungwoo’s anxious voice brings Jaehyun back to the horrid situation they are in; away from Taeyong’s soft giggles and pretty eyes. “What are we going to do?”  
  
“We have to talk to SM.” answers Dongyoung like it’s obvious. Maybe it is.   
  
“Shit, our comeback is in two weeks.”   
  
“We have bigger problems than that. You know what’s worse than a comeback at this moment?” chides Johnny, pointing with his head at the giggling kid on Jaehyun’s lap.  
  
In a whisper Donghyuck asks, genuinely concerned. “A child?”  
  
“No!”   
  
“I mean yes? What the fuck are we going to do?”   
  
“Don’t curse in front of the kid!” hisses Dongyoung, throwing daggers at Yuta.   
  
“What _kid_? That’s Taeyong!”   
  
And just like that, it all goes downhill. To put it mildly. It’s beyond clear that their feelings are all over the place and their concern for Taeyong is slowly blinding their senses. Thus Jaehyun can’t really blame his members for the panic lacing their voices, the increasingly loud tone in each sentence. After all, Taeyong has always been their rock, their mediator.   
  
But, _this_ Taeyong, it’s another story.   
  
When the older Taeyong would stand up and end this mess with three words and a little joke to lift the awkward atmosphere. _This_ Taeyong on the other hand, presses his tiny body further into Jaehyun’s chest as his members' voices turn louder and louder, the game he was playing on Jaehyun's battered phone long forgotten.   
  
Then, Taeyong lets out the tiniest whimper when Donghyuck and the ever calm Jungwoo begin a small quarrel. Jaehyun knows he has to step in.   
  
“Okay that’s enough. We should continue this another time.”   
  
Jaehyun’s not one to reprimand people, he’s known to be quite chill. So, it’s always funny when he does.   
  
The whole room succumbs to silence, his members turn to look at Jaehyun with a shin of surprise and mild terror on their faces.   
  
Yuta is the first to break the silence, “Sure yeah. But we still have to–”   
  
“No,” Jaehyun cuts him off. He pulls Taeyong’s tense body closer to his chest. “We are not going to do anything, at least not right now. Look how agitated you all are! And even as _his_ –he’s a child!”  
  
Maybe it’s how his body tenses at the prospect of overwhelming Taeyong at the moment or maybe it’s the hint of hysteria dripping in his own words that makes Taeyong turn on Jaehyun’s hold.  
  
“Mad?”   
  
It’s the gentle touch that manages to quieten the wave of dismay swirling in Jaehyun’s chest. Taeyong’s eyes are still so kind, so tender. Jaehyun’s knocked out, he feels himself fall apart.  
  
“No, Hyung of course not,” Jaehyun shakes his head, offering the child a dimpled smile. Taeyong turns his head to the side confused at the formality so Jaehyun corrects himself. “ _Taeyongie_ , never with Taeyongie.” Jaehyun bops his nose affectionately before Taeyong settles back on his lap happy with the answer.   
  
“Fine. But we have to at least look up into what is going on,” Dongyoung states. There’s something clouding his eyes that let Jaehyun know this is not the end of this argument. “Johnny hyung and I are going to talk to SM. You guys stay here and prepare breakfast in the meanwhile.”  
  
“We also have to buy the kid some clothes,” Johnny continues, eyeing the white sleeping t-shirt drowning Taeyong. “He can’t go on wearing that.”   
  
“We’ll call manager Hyung and get him to meet us and then we’ll shop some things for Hyung, okay?” continues Dongyoung standing up and pulling Johnny with him.  
  
Taeyong looks at Jaehyun and then at Dongyoung, perking up at the prospect of going shopping. Jaehyun puts his hands on the toddler's stomach moving it up and down making him giggle loudly.   
  
Dongyoung frowns unimpressed.   
  
“Hyung-er, I mean, _Taeyongie_ ,” Taeyong stops giggling to turn to look at the man, Jaehyun cleans the drool at the corner of his lip with a grimace. “You’re going to stay with this hyung, is Taeyongie okay with that?”   
  
Taeyong nods happily. He turns his little body until he’s hugging Jaehyun’s neck with his arms. “Mm, I like it.”   
  
“Be good okay?” coos Johnny, caressing his mop of black hair. “Call us if you need anything. And don’t let Dream or WayV see him before we talk to Manager hyung okay?”   
  
Jaehyun nods, or at least tries to, with Taeyong’s little arms squeezing his neck.   
  
“Do not give him too much sugar, either. I don’t want to know how this child is going to get on a sugar rush. Adult Taeyong is, and I say this in the most loving way, a mess.”  
  
It’s like he knows that Dongyoung is nagging about him, because Taeyong turns around at the sound of his name and shows his tongue to Dongyoung. Raspberry included.  
  
It feels eerily normal, seeing a flash of the adult Taeyong coming through this child, ready to _fight_ Dongyoung. It manages to appease the turmoil on Jaehyun’s stomach. It even pulls out a laugh from Dongyoung’s gaping mouth, albeit only for a second.  
  
“Oh and Jaehyun-ah? If something happens to him, if I come back and even one hair is out of place, I’ll kill you.” Rather than a gentle and warm smile fixed on Johnny’s handsome features its one with a menacing sharpness to it.   
  
Jaehyun tightens his hold on Taeyong’s small body unconsciously. He’s never received a more friendly death threat before.   


* * *

  
Breakfast is far from a quiet affair. Thankfully, years of training had granted Jaehyun the ability to shut out people around him; so he pays little to no mind to the low murmurs and heavy looks from his band-mates.   
  
He understands the shock, hell Jaehyun himself is not sure why he’s as calm as he is at the moment. If he’s honest with himself, he’s kind of proud he hasn’t had a breakdown at the moment.   
  
(Granted, he’s worried sick and a thousand thoughts are going through his head, one more horrible than the other—but Jaehyun would die first if he were to scare Taeyong if he ever had a meltdown or if he dared to treat him any different now than before just because he…  
  
Also, Taeyong’s eyes are somehow bigger and shinier now that he’s a kid and Jaehyun’s just a man with a weak heart—)   
  
Still, it’s not good for Taeyong to be the center of unwanted attention (especially for something none of them understand or know what is going on), so Jaehyun tries to divert the attention by filling his friends plates with as much food as he can and singing out of tune to whatever song Taeyong is dancing.   
  
It works. Kinda.  
  
The rest of 127 stuff their faces and bicker about egg-rolls and fried kimchi rice while Taeyong continues to mimic the dances he sees on TV.   
  
Taeyong might be one of the best dancers of this generation but right now he’s a child: and a clumsy one at that.  
  
The first time he tried to do a spin, Jaehyun’s heart almost burst out of his ribcage. It was as if Taeyong was spinning in slow motion, his little body tumbling due to his lack of balance. Taeyong’s face all scrunched in annoyance as he tried again and again to do a spin until he didn't tumble right after.  
  
With his own face twisted in pain at the number of times Taeyong almost fell on the floor face first, Jaehyun’s hit with the sense of déjà vu: all those night practices Jaehyun shared with a much older dancer with the same burning determination behind starry eyes.   
  
He can't help but smile.   
  
“Taeyong! Come, it’s going to get cold if you don’t eat it now.”  
  
The toddler runs on his tiny feet with his wide mouth open to eat the kimbap on the raised chopsticks Jaehyun’s holding for him.  
  
“Is it yummy?” Taeyong nods patting his tummy happily. He opens his mouth wide without looking at Jaehyun but the TV. A sudden wave of nostalgia hits him at the silent request making Jaehyun react like he’d do normally. He decides to tease the child by moving further and further away the chopsticks from Taeyong’s open mouth.  
  
After biting air for the second time, Taeyong turns to look for what is wrong, only to find Jaehyun’s smiling face munching on Taeyong’s kimbap. Taeyong scrunches his nose and twists his mouth in a petulant pout, just like he always did when he was angry.   
  
He’s so adorable.  
  
Still, chuckling to himself, Jaehyun finally feeds Taeyong. The boy chums happily, moving his body side to side with the beat of the music in the background.   
  
Jaehyun can only admire the intrinsic nature Taeyong has for dancing, sure, he’s still a little wobbly and his hand moments are not that sharp, but still.   
  
It fills Jaehyun with pride.   
  
“He’s still more talented than all of us at dancing, even as a kid.” Laments Taeil, through a mouthful of rice. “It’s good to know some things never change.”   


* * *

  
  
After lunch, they receive a call from Dongyoung letting them know that they are coming back in a few and ‘ _Taeyong must be cleaned and fed when we arrive or else_ ’.   
  
“Ugh, let’s hope they get him cute things,” Whines Yuta, picking up an empty strawberry milk container. “They both dress like shit.”   
  
Mark gasps, looking around for Taeyong, before turning to gape at a smiling Yuta.   
  
“I’m sorry.” A pause. Then Yuta continues, his voice filled with mirth. “I love you.”   
  
Jaehyun ignores Mark’s piercing shriek as a response. “We’ve got to do something with his shirt.”   
  
Everyone eyes the pink stain on Taeyong’s shirt, an unfortunate accident where a wine glass was used as a sippy cup, Mark sighs. “Yo, Dongyoung hyung is going to _flip_.”   
  
“We don’t have anything to change him to, so let’s just brace ourselves for the nag that’s going to follow, okay?”   
  
“Yay.”   
  
“Hey Taeyongie?” Sing-songs Donghyuck, walking out from the kitchen, clearly avoiding fulfilling his dishwasher duty. “Do you want to do something fun?”  
  
Taeyong perks up at the question, tilting his head to the side, trying to put two and two together, but Donghyuck doesn’t wait for an answer. He runs down the hall in a hurry, disappearing in one of their rooms. There’s some shuffling on the background before he’s jogging back with a little black bag with lots of colorful drawings on it, clasped in his hands.   
  
With small steps, Taeyong makes his way to Donghyuck, his eyes trained to the bag, tracing every curve, every pop of color with curious eyes.   
  
Jaehyun turns to Donghyuck with an eyebrow raised when he recognizes the bag. “You know how Hyung doesn’t like it when we take his things.”   
  
“Well, let’s ask him now. Taeyongie?” The child, oblivious to the mirth swimming on Donghyuck’s eyes and face, hums in answer. “Can we use your markers?”   
  
Taeyong nods, black hair covering his face, his little hands coming to move them from his eyes.   
  
“Ah our Taeyongie is the cutest and most selfless! Unlike some people.” Says Donghyuck, ruffling Taeyong’s long hair before sending an unapologetic wink at Jaehyun.   
  
At his side, Jungwoo carefully pulls out all the contents of Taeyong’s art bag, scattering his color pencils, paint tubes and brushes all over the floor.   
  
Taeyong’s eyes light up like the night sky when he sees all the art supplies at his feet. He picks up one of the papers Yuta hands him and settles next to Jaehyun to draw.  
  
While Taeyong draws quietly to himself, Jaehyun and the rest decide to wait for Dongyoung and Johnny by gossiping amongst themselves: the new choreography, the pretty new girl-group they bumped outside MBC.  
  
Donghyuck is in the middle of retelling a totally ludicrous story about Jaemin and Jisung, when Jaehyun feels a gentle pull on his pajama pants.  
  
“Are you done Taeyongie?” Jaehyun asks. He offers a dimpled smile at the boy who’s looking up at him. Taeyong nods shyly and hurries to cover one of his drawings with his hands while he passes the other to Jaehyun.   
  
The drawing is a bunch of greens, blacks and some colorful blotches here and there, making it almost impossible to decipher what each stroke means. Jaehyun hesitates for a second, wondering if he’s holding upside down (Art is, after all, subjective), before Taeyong stands up slowly and points at one of the yellow blotches happily.   
  
“Sun.”   
  
Jaehyun lets out a happy laugh. He points at another blotch of color and asks, “Is this the sky?”   
  
Taeyong nods eager, and continues to explain what each stroke means. He talks rapidly, stumbling on his words like his brain is working faster than his tongue–which, if their suspicions are correct, their Taeyong is trapped on that little body. It doesn’t deter him, Taeyong sounds happy and childish but proud and it makes Jaehyun’s heart swell up with adoration.  
  
Taeyong had drawn them.   
  
Or at least is what he’s saying as he points to the stick figures surrounded by blues and yellows.   
  
“What is that?” asks Mark pointing to one particular stick figure that has two red lines above its head and two white ones with a hint of pink.   
  
“Do.”   
  
There’s an explosion of loud laughter in their living room as Donghyuck, with tears in his eyes, points at the drawing with immense glee.   
  
“Why did you do Dongyoung hyung so bad?”   
  
“You're totally an artist Taeyongie, it totally looks like him.” Grins Yuta patting Taeyong on his head. He takes out his phone and takes a picture of the drawing—probably to haunt Dongyoung for the rest of his days or something like that.   
  
“Wait, where’s Jaehyunnie hyung?” asks Jungwoo, counting the stick figures out loud. “Where are you?”   
  
Shyly, Taeyong pulls the other drawing from behind his back. Just like the other one, this one too is a blotch of colors with two stick figures holding hands in the middle of the page; one taller than the other and with dents on both his cheeks, the other one with a mop of black hair.  
  
Oh, Jaehyun loves him so much.  
  
Taeyong’s eyes lighten up when Jaehyun takes the drawing in his hands gently like the most precious gift he’s ever received in his life.   
  
(Because it is.)  
  
“Thank you petal.” Jaehyun manages to croak embarrassed. His low voice drowns through the wave of wolf-whistles, loud clapping and the hard-ass pats on his back coming his way. He’s pretty sure his skin is going to bruise.   
  
But then, Taeyong beams at him with his twinkly eyes and his whole face lighting up like the sun on a summer day.   
  
And it’s all worth it.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Johnny and Dongyoung arrive not much later than that. They don’t comment on Taeyong’s art displayed on their fridge along with a picture drawn by Jungwoo and Hyuck of little Taeyong with rainbow shoes and colorful hair.  
  
(The drawing of the both of them though, is safely tucked in Jaehyun’s breast pocket; close to his heart.)   
  
“I didn’t expect anything and you still managed to disappoint.” Yuta sighs, as he takes out a green wool vest from the nearest shopping bag.   
  
“It’s the concept we are going for,” defends Dongyoung, snatching the green vest from Yuta’s hands. “Preppy kid.”   
  
Behind a snort, Donghyuck says, “He’s not 50, Hyung.”  
  
“Taeyong likes it! Right?” Ignoring the question, Taeyong continues to eye the colorful shopping bags with mild interest. “You do like it, right Taeyongie?” Dongyoung asks again. This time, his voice is incredibly mellow, like one would do with a sleeping puppy or a toddler.   
  
Oh–   
  
With pursed lips, Taeyong tips his head backwards. “Hate it.”   
  
Jungwoo’s and Donghyuck's choked up laughter drowns Dongyoung’s indignant huffs.  
  
“Look, Hyung bought you so many clothes!” Says Johnny gently, pinching Taeyong’s plump cheek.   
  
A new set of shopping bags materialize out of nowhere as Johnny shows Taeyong a bunch of colorful t-shirts, sneakers and flashy pants. With each new piece of clothing that Johnny shows him, Taeyong’s eyes get bigger and bigger.   
  
“Do you like it?”   
  
Taeyong takes a colorful shirt, with a cute character on it and stares at it for a while before saying, “Like it.”   
  
“Do you want to try them on?”   
  
Taeyong nods, clutching the t-shirt to his chest.   
  
Extending a hand to Taeyong, who's standing in the middle of an explosion of colorful clothes, Johnny asks, “Hey, wanna ride my shoulders?”   
  
Sweet, pure, baby Taeyong doesn’t know what Johnny’s saying, he just nods again and lets Johnny manhandle him.   
  
Taeyong’s a little too tall for a child his age, so he shuffles on Johnny’s grip, even when Jaehyun goes and tries to help, it's no use. Taeyong ends up with his legs on Johnny’s neck, his front to his face.   
  
They try to move Taeyong, but the boy has Johnny’s auburn hair in his little fists making the older let out a cry of pain.   
  
They must be looking pretty pitiful, because at once, the rest of the members are crowding around them to help.   
  
Jungwoo tries to pry Taeyong’s fingers from their Hyung’s hair while Jaehyun and Johnny try to move the boy but now, Taeyong’s pushing Johnny’s chest with his feet, trying to stand again and crawl into his shoulders.   
  
Seeing how this is not going to work, Jaehyun settles Taeyong on the floor as he tries to catch a breath. Thriving at the chaotic mess around him, Donghyuck takes Taeyong’s hand and pulls him in front of Mark.   
  
“You wanna try that one Taeyongie?”  
  
Without a word, Taeyong raises his hands to Mark, asking to be carried.   
  
Minhyung’s soft spot for Taeyong is as big as Jaehyun’s, so without a word he turns his back to Taeyong and hunches a little so Donghyuck can help sit Taeyong right this time. Very slowly and with his hands holding Taeyong’s small ones, Mark stands up.   
  
“Wow, the world sure looks different from here, huh Taeyongie?” jokes Donhyuck, eyes going from Mark and Johnny shamelessly, with a shit eating grin on his face.  
  
Mark’s face turns a new and interesting shade of red; taking pity, Jaehyun decides to save him before Minhyung really cries this time.   
  
“Come on Taeyongie, let’s get you changed.”   
  
“Mn.”  
  
Jaehyun picks up Taeyong from Mark’s shoulders while Johnny collects a bunch of clothes, silently making their way to the bathroom to help the boy dress himself.   
  
Jaehyun helps discard the stained white t-shirt from Taeyong’s body as Johnny begins to display the endless amount of baby clothes they’ve bought.   
  
It makes Jaehyun’s stomach twist.   
  
“Don’t you think this is too much?” Jaehyun asks, eyeing the little mountain of t-shirts and other pieces lying on their bathroom floor.   
  
“I just couldn’t stop. Baby clothes are so cute, huh?” Says Johnny, sheepishly. He gives Jaehyun a quick look before continuing. “Besides we don’t know how long he’s going to be this way, so I'd rather us be prepared, don’t you think?”   
  
Just like before, a swirl of panic forms in Jaehyun’s stomach. He tries to regulate his erratic heartbeat; he stops breathing in an effort to make his heart slow down and hopes Johnny doesn’t notice the change.   
  
_‘We don’t know how long he’s going to be this way.’_  
  
“What did Manager Choi say?” Jaehyun cringes inwardly when he notices how hoarse his voice sounds; a clear indication that he’s not going to entertain the meaning behind Johnny’s question.  
  
If he does he’s sure he’s going to collapse.   
  
“Well, he pulled out a soju bottle, downed it in five-seconds and then blurted out that he was going to manage SM. I believe he was drunk when he said that…” Johnny lets out a little laugh that manages to pull one out of Jaehyun’s tense body too. “He asked us to take care of him and look through his things, maybe we could find something.”  
  
“I–“ Jaehyun feels a soft pull by his leg and he looks down startled, having forgotten Taeyong’s presence in the bathroom. Taeyong, now fully ‘dressed’ (his shirt is backwards and he has paired it with some pajama pants), is holding on his hands two different shoes. One black and the other pink.   
  
Ah.   
  
The memory of an older Taeyong coming out of his room sporting the same color of mix-matched sneakers, suddenly hits Jaehyun. He paired it with a blazer, a hand painted bag he had adorned with a bunch of doodles he had painted that morning and wild black hair.   
  
The whole outfit was catchy, lively, out there. It was pure art.   
  
Just like Taeyong.  
  
Jaehyun's heart had fluttered at the sight of Taeyong’s whole body buzzing with poor concealed nervousness. He remembers the shyness lacing Taeyong’s voice when he had asked for Jaehyun’s opinion.  
  
He remembers how, underneath Taeyong’s nonchalant question, laid a strong cry for acceptance. How sad it was, that at that time, Taeyong couldn’t see what Jaehyun saw.   
  
As an answer, Jaehyun had pressed a little kiss on the other’s palm before asking back. _“How do you feel?”_  
  
_“Good. I feel–”_ He paused. And then, followed by a shy laugh, _“Amazing.”_  
  
Pressing another kiss to Taeyong’s palm, Jaehyun sighed. _“That’s all that matters.”_  
  
Back in the present, little Taeyong shoves his shoes into Jaehyun’s hand with force. The eagerness painted across his face as Jaehyun crunches down to take them on his hands makes him melt on the spot.   
  
Jaehyun smiles back with equal eagerness at Taeyong’s full moons. “Come here then.”   


* * *

  
  
  
They were supposed to go to practice at noon, but since their leader is a child and they can’t really leave him alone, they have to beg manager Choi to help them get out of the ordeal. At least for today.   
  
Manager Choi, still drunk as fuck, retaliates by sending Kasper’s phone number to their group chat and urges them to handle it themselves.   
  
And handle it themselves they did. They decide their fate by a nail-biting game of rock-paper-scissors that Johnny is the one who’s in-charge to call their choreographer.   
  
(Actually, Taeil was the one who lost, but he asserted his authority as the oldest by shoving the troublesome task to the best liar of the group. Jaehyun’s just happy that for once it wasn’t he who lost.)   
  
As always, Johnny didn’t disappoint.   
  
“We didn’t know we were filming it today. It’s for a show, SHINee also did it! Maybe you’ve heard of it?” It was commendable, the certainty with how he uttered each word.   
  
“Take him there? Yeah, we really wanted to take him there but he fell asleep…”  
  
It would have been nice: taking Taeyong to a place where he has made so many good memories, let him dance for a bit and relax but alas, it’s not possible. If they did appear at SM with a child in their arms it’d be chaos; especially if a fan takes a look at him and sees the resemblance...the hurtful rumors it could bring...  
  
Taeyong’s name had just been cleared…  
  
Unconsciously, Jaehyun moves closer to Taeyong on the couch.   
  
“We’ll make it up to you! Sure. Okay, bye!”   
  
The room feels ten times lighter when Johnny finally hangs up with a lopsided grin on his face. He winks at Taeyong and Jaehyun across the sofa and slowly, pulls out a bag of sweet potato chips from behind him.  
  
“Hungry?”   
  
(They cut them in small pieces so it's easier for Taeyong to eat them. Some members—Donghyuck—jokingly ask to be fed the bigger pieces and like he does every time someone asks something from him, Taeyong does. He feeds Donghyuck each single piece of sweet potato he asked for until Johnny intervenes. Pulling two more packets out of the couch, Johnny gifts them to a clearly overjoyed Taeyong; who proceeds to devour them in an hour, alone.   
  
He also refuses to eat another thing for the rest of the day.   
  
Dongyoung’s face turns a new—and alarming—shade of purple.)   


* * *

  
  
  
Jaehyun once had said at a fansign, that if he weren’t an idol, he’d be a father. Ever since he was young, he’d loved to take care of children, playing with them like he would if they were his.   
  
All that was still true.   
  
But when the kid you’re taking care of, playing with, is the man you’d hoped you could share the rest of your life with...   
  
It changes things.   
  
It’s a bunch of conflicting feelings, if Jaehyun’s honest. On one hand: he’s really grateful to be able to see Taeyong like he was a kid. It’s truly a blessing that he’s able to hold and take care of him like this; a confirmation that Taeyong has always been this good, this pure.  
  
It’s wonderful.  
  
On the other, Jaehyun feels like he’s been underwater since he met... _Taeyong_ in the morning. Out of breath, out of mind; just sinking deeper and deeper with each passing second. There’s this weight on his chest in the shape of a little boy with stars on his eyes tainting every new memory Jaehyun could and should be enjoying right now.  
  
What if Taeyong doesn’t return to normal?  
  
What is going to happen to Taeyong? To his dreams that he fought so hard for?   
  
Taeyong’s voice calls for him across the room, and it pierces his heart. It’s sad, it’s sad because Jaehyun always liked how Taeyong said his name.   
  
He loved hearing it especially when Taeyong was sleepy. He loved to be lulled to sleep with the elder’s sweet murmurs against his ear, so soft, like the gentle wind that moved the flowers and long grass on a field, or the delicate wings of the butterflies swirling on his stomach.   
  
One of the last words older Taeyong ever said to him was also Jaehyun’s name. That’s all he has now: the memory of his beloved calling his name seared into his heart and his soul.   
  
The thought of not knowing when he’d hear it again, it’s the itch behind his ribs.   
  
Taeyong calls for him again, this time with more urgency, his holler making its way outside Jaehyun’s bedroom into the bathroom.   
  
Jaehyun drags his heavy body as fast as he can until he’s outside his room where Taeyong continues to yell his name, his voice becoming louder and louder, an echo of desperation worming its way inside his already troubled mind. Jaehyun breathes in and out, trying to get himself together; he can feel the tears pooling in his eyes, waiting for him to blink so they can fall.   
  
When he finally enters his room he finds Mark, Yuta and Jungwoo trying to get Taeyong to sleep.   
  
At the sight of Jaehyun coming back, Taeyong wipes the wet kiss Yuta presses on his cheek and holds his hands up. Jaehyun ignores the throbbing pain on his heart and picks up the child, holding him close to his chest.   
  
“Yuta~” Sing-songs Jungwoo in a high pitched voice. There’s a crease on his forehead when he spots Jaehyun’s face. “Maybe you should read that kids story you downloaded during lunch.”  
  
“We also have to answer his texts.” cuts Mark, swinging Taeyong’s phone on his hands. “If we don’t, people might worry. Uh, Jae hyung, maybe you’d like to–”   
  
Jaehyun shakes his head. His voice hitches when he says: “You do it.”   
  
“Oh?, yeah, yeah. Just, uh, the password?”   
  
“It’s Taeyong,” Says Yuta like he’s reciting a well-known fact. “You know what his password is.”   
  
“Uh, wha–?”   
  
“Please, please, don’t make me say it.”   
  
Jaehyun clears his throat loudly and ignores Mark’s worried gaze dancing between Jaehyun and Taeyong, who’s still curled against Jaehyun’s chest.   
  
“I thought you were going to read him a story? He has to sleep.”   
  
With a pout on his lips, Taeyong shakes his head. “No sleep.”  
  
“It’s late now, Yong-ah. You have to sleep.”  
  
“Right, right...listen carefully Taeyongie,” Yuta puts his best showman voice on and moves closer to Jaehyun and Taeyong. He pulls out his phone and shows them a colorful children book with a tiger on the cover.   
  
“This is the story of a mother who encounters a strong tiger,” Jungwoo copies Yuta’s words with an exaggerated voice, making Taeyong giggle happily, Yuta continues. “Whenever she crosses a mountain. He always takes away the rice cake she had on her.”   
  
“Don’t worry, I’m sure everything will go okay, no need to worry.” Coos Mark, when Taeyong frowns displeased. Jaehyun side eyes Yuta with a frown of his own too.   
  
“Yeah, that tiger will get what’s coming to him,” adds Yuta nodding, before continuing with his tale. “So, one day, the tiger eats the mother and–”   
  
Taeyong cries.   
  
Hard.   
  
He cries even harder than when he first saw him in the morning. His face is scarlet with only the slight hint of purple that has Jaehyun on the verge of tears. He engulfs the trembling child in his arms, cooing against his temple sweet words for him to calm down.   
  
It doesn’t work.   
  
Taeyong lets out a wail full of pain that goes straight to Jaehyun’s stomach, like a mother-fucking punch in his gut. He barely registers Jungwoo, Mark and Yuta fumbling their way out of Jaehyun’s room.   
  
With Taeyong still wailing in his arms, Jaehyun stands up and begins to bounce the boy gently up and down, pressing little kisses on Taeyong’s sweaty forehead, on his wet cheeks.   
  
Jaehyun feels the desperation forming on his throat as Taeyong continues to cry, disconsolate.   
  
Helpless, Jaehyun looks around his room for something, anything, that will help him calm Taeyong down. In his distressed state his eyes linger at his turntable catching the greens and yellows from a Chet Baker album and it hits him.   
  
His lips are still pressed against his little hyung’s forehead when Jaehyun begins to sing. He closes his eyes, and continues to sing even when his voice is being drowned by the cries of the child. Even when his song is being distorted by his own choked up voice.   
  
Jaehyun must have sung for a minute, for an hour, who knows, but just like he had begun to cry abruptly, Taeyong started to calm down. His cries softened until they were nothing more than just soft hiccups buried against Jaehyun’s neck.  
  
He continues to sway Taeyong’s little body from side to side, still singing for him until the boy finally falls asleep. Taeyong shifts into his embrace after a while, curling his body against Jaehyun’s chest but still managing to let one little hand rest on the nape of Jaehyun’s head, his fingers idly pressing the spot there while he sighs in content.   
  
Just like he always did.   
  
The warmth that fills his heart at the gesture so dear to him, it’s what breaks him.   
  
He tries not to. He bites his lower lip letting only some sad whimpers escape his bruised lips. To anchor himself, he presses Taeyong’s body closer to his, closer until he can feel his heartbeat.   
  
Another choked sob echoing in a silent room. Just like that one night with Taeyong before debut.   
  
With their first stage breathing down their necks, Jaehyun and Taeyong had developed a habit of meeting up in empty dance rooms to practice until they couldn’t move anymore.   
  
(Jaehyun didn’t have a problem just dancing and looking at his hyung for pointers on how to improve his dancing at the beginning. But then, something changed.   
  
He doesn’t know when or how or why. It just did. He would often catch himself imagining kissing Taeyong against the cold glass instead of just seeing him dance. Jaehyun would spend those hectic nights just watching his Hyung dance with all his might while he imagined how Taeyong’s skin would feel against his calloused hands.   
  
He imagined it so much that it almost felt like a memory.)  
  
That night elapsed like always. With Taeyong dancing and giving Jaehyun his own heartfelt feedback, while Jaehyun would fantasize about Taeyong’s flexible body.  
  
He was in the middle of a rather embarrassing day-dream when he heard the sound of a choked whimper. Perplexed, Jaehyun moved his eyes from the floor where they had been to the corner of the dance room.   
  
Hidden behind the sound system, was Taeyong whose whole body was shaking as he was fighting hard to keep his wails as low as he could. Jaehyun remembers the panic that crashed through his whole body; how he hurriedly sat next to Taeyong and helplessly took his hand, hoping to ease—at least a little—the pain that was coursing through Taeyong’s heart.  
  
It had come out of nowhere, at the time Jaehyun was training to be a rapper so he sang from time to time mostly to himself or his grandma. His technique was rusty and his voice hoarse.   
  
But he still did it.   
  
It was a simple melody, like most beautiful songs are. It carried across the room like the gentle breeze on a summer night. He hummed quietly for Taeyong until he could no longer hear the choked sobs of the older echoing on the practice room.   
  
Was it’ _‘My funny Valentine’ or ‘I fall in love too easily’? Maybe ‘Alone together’?_ Or _‘That old feeling’_? Jaehyun doesn’t know, he can’t remember. All he can remember was a trembling hand caressing his nape, urging Jaehyun to continue when he had stopped singing.   
  
In his arms, Taeyong’s hold tightens on his nape and Fuck–  
  
He misses him so.   


* * *

  
The next morning, Jaehyun wakes up to a text message from Mark. 

Mark Lee

02:45 AM  
It’s your birthday  
The password   
Did you know that? 

  
Me

06:32 AM  
yes

  
Mark Lee

06:35 AM  
I miss him too  
We’ll get him back  
Don’t worry 

Jaehyun doesn’t answer after that. 

* * *

  
Jaehyun imagined kissing Taeyong so much it almost felt like a memory.  
  
As a teenager he had fantasized about it day and night, while he was practicing, while stealing glances from the older when they were supposed to be writing verses for their songs. He imagined deep into the night where he was laying on bed in a little room cramped with another 2 young men, replaying his conversations with Taeyong during the day. He would replay each one of Taeyong’s words, like lullabies, until Jaehyun would fall asleep.   
  
As an adult, he would fantasize about it when Taeyong would cook food for them after a long day of work, even if he was dead tired. He’d imagined it when the colorful stage lights would hit Taeyong’s face, forming a halo around him or when Taeyong would talk to his fishes about his day and his pink lips moved as if he were pouting.   
  
It didn’t matter how many times Jaehyun had thought about it or dreamt about it, when it finally happened, the real deal was way better than anything Jaehyun could’ve conjured.   
  
In hindsight, it was nothing special: There was no grand plan, no elaborate ruse to get the older to kiss him. It just happened. A fortunate stroke of serendipity.  
  
It happened one night, when Jungwoo exiled Jaehyun from their room to host a little gaming session with Sung Chan and Chenle. Instead of finding refuge in Mark, Yuta’s or Taeil’s room, Jaehyun made his way downstairs and barged into Taeyong's room without a word.   
  
Taeyong was dead tired, there were blue eye-bags under his eyes and his voice sounded strained thanks to what looked like another late night meeting with management; but nevertheless he let Jaehyun crash in.   
  
Neither of them commented on how rare, how childish Jaehyun was behaving. How reminiscent of their younger years it was. After all, it had been years since Jaehyun had done something like this—cuddling Taeyong on his tiny bed without offering any sort of explanation.  
  
But Taeyong, sweet, dear, loving Taeyong had laughed, that loud, piercing, _endearing_ laugh, and had welcomed him with open arms.  
  
An old Studio Ghibli movie was the background noise of their mindless conversation. They talked about anything and everything: about their next comeback, about the new dessert at Taeyong's favorite bakery.  
  
They laughed at Donghyuck and Mark antics, at Yuta’s silly stories. And while Taeyong teased Jaehyun about his upcoming drama, about the cheesy lines he was going to deliver with a straight face, Jaehyun let himself get lost in Taeyong's laugh, in his bright smile. On his eyes that hold all of Jaehyun’s heart.  
  
By 2:00 AM, Jaehyun’s phone lit up with a message from Jungwoo; He can finally return to his room. Begrudgingly, Jaehyun tried to move from the bed but he couldn't. Maybe it was the fatigue of a long day, or it was the way Taeyong’s warm body was pressed against his that made Jaehyun unable to move.   
  
Or maybe, just maybe, it was the shy press of lips against his. A small kiss, just a peck. One that Jaehyun had craved for so many years, and one he wasn’t going to let be a just one time thing.  
  
Jaehyun had closed the little distance that was between them, he had taken Taeyong’s bottom lip with his teeth, and Jaehyun had kissed Taeyong.   
  
Deep. Hard.   
  
Between gasps and moans, licks and bites, Taeyong had painted a song of all his feelings for Jaehyun; all of them a mere echo of what Jaehyun had been feeling for the older since he was sixteen.   
  
Still, Jaehyun repeats them against the rose-like scar beside Taeyong’s right eye.   
  
_“We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?”_ Taeyong’s voice was airy with puffs of warm air hitting Jaehyun’s bruised lips. He chased Taeyong’s mouth, pressing a demanding kiss as an answer.   
  
Breathless and with his eyes filled with all the galaxies in the sky Taeyong says into Jaehyun’s mouth, _“I–there’s so much I want to tell you.”_  
  
Jaehyun tried to pry his hands away from Taeyong's waist, but it’s no use. With his mind a cloudy haze and his heart two seconds away from leaping out of his chest and onto Taeyong’s lap, Jaehyun nodded. He hid his flushed face, and shy, enamoured smile on his lips, in the crook of Taeyong’s neck. _“I’ll see you tomorrow Hyung. Night, Night.”_  
  
_“Mmh. I love you.”_ Taeyong said shutting Jaehyun up with one finger on the lips when he saw the younger about to say something. _“I know. Tomorrow, okay Jaehyunnie?.”_   
  
With one last kiss, Jaehyun made his way out of Taeyong’s room with a giddy bounce to his step and childish excitement swimming through his veins.   
  
Giddy. Bashful. In love.  
  
How bittersweet that the kiss they share would be the last one. If he only knew he’d–  
  
Unfair.   
  
How was Jaehyun supposed to know that by the time he’d wake up, only three hours later, Taeyong would be gone?

* * *

  
Jaehyun has never considered himself as weak—he’s strong willed to the point of being stubborn: like Dongyoung, he knows how to put his foot down and say no. Unlike Dongyoung, he just prefers to go with the flow and please all his peers. 

Especially Taeyong. 

With his big eyes and loud laugh, Taeyong is a force to be reckoned with, inimitable. Jaehyun knew when he met the older he was never going to be able to say no to Taeyong.  
  
Taeyong being a little kid does nothing to change this.  
  
(After all, Jaehyun is only a man. One weak to big eyes and pouty lips at that.)

Like right now: Taeyong, who's clinging to Jaehyun’s neck in an effort to deter him from going to Inkigayo—and Jaehyun seriously considering giving in—was just a shameful display of Jaehyun’s poor restraint.   
  
“It’s only going to be for a few hours,” Jaehyun repeats patiently. His voice comes out with a little quiver he hopes Taeyong doesn’t notice. It’s like Taeyong can always tell when Jaehyun’s about to give in. “I’ll come back so quickly you’ll never know I wasn’t here.”

Taeyong sighs loudly and buries his face deeper on the crook of Jaehyun’s neck in protest, his bunny pajamas making him look extremely pitiful. Jaehyun turns to look at his hyungs who are looking from the living room, desperate. 

“We’ll prepare something fun to eat while we wait!” promises Dongyoung petting Taeyong’s messy hair. “We can even play with Jaehyunie’s switch, you love that, don’t you?”   
  
Again, Taeyong sighs as an answer.  
  
“Good to see he’s still as dramatic as always.” Whispers Taeil to no-one in particular.   
  
“Taeyongie!, wanna do something fun? You can help Hyung with his hair.” Says Yuta holding a bottle of hair dye in one hand.  
  
“Where did you get that?”   
  
Yuta smiles with a twinkle in his eyes, but ignores Dongyoung’s question. “We can do something fun to your hair too Taeyongie, even if we don’t dye it.”   
  
Without looking at Yuta, Taeyong shakes his head and clings to Jaehyun harder.   
  
“You sure? The paint is pink.”   
  
Begrudgingly and with a pout on his lips, Taeyong pries himself from Jaehyun’s embrace to look at Yuta and the bottle of hair dye on his hands. Yuta laughs as moves closer so Taeyong can see the pink inside.   
  
Intrigued by the flash of color inside the bottle, Taeyong turns to press a wet kiss on Jaehyun’s chin and lets himself be taken from Jaehyun’s arms and into the bathroom by a crackling Yuta.   
  
Jaehyun’s arms suddenly feel cold without the warmth of Taeyong’s body.   
  
Maybe that is what makes him speak up without rhyme or reason.   
  
Or maybe it is the helplessness that’s been trying to crawl into Jaehyun’s chest trying to make its home all morning.   
  
“Hyung?” Jaehyun calls out, the words coming out of his mouth like sand between fingers. “Am I–selfish for...I mean I know that he’s here even if he’s not—How did this happen? How do we—”   
  
Dongyoung's worried call for his name is followed by a gentle tug on Jaehyun’s arm—but Jaehyun is too gone to notice it.   
  
“I miss him,” Jaehyun lets himself say out loud for the first time. He repeats it, this time stronger even as his voice breaks at the end. Because he can feel it gnawing at him and Jaehyun doesn’t think he can hold it together any longer. “I–I’m so relieved he’s happy, he looks happy, he deserves to be, but, Taeyong he...I miss him, I miss him so fucking much Hyung...What if he doesn’t come back? What if he doesn’t change? What–”  
  
Dongyoung’s voice sounds as broken as Jaehyun’s when the older embraces him.   
  
Without noticing it, Jaehyun’s body goes lax, the weight on his chest finally pulling him down. And, for the first time in the last 12 hours, Jaehyun breaks apart in the arms of someone he loves.   


* * *

Jaehyun tries to act surprised when he finds Johnny and Mark waiting for him inside his van after Inkigayo. He knows it’s Dongyoung’s doing, it’s always Dongyoung’s doing.

It gets awkward quickly. Jaehyun can’t deny it’s his fault, he had to ask about the Taeyong situation; after all, the deal was Jaehyun would look after Taeyong while the rest of them searched for what was happening. And though it’s only been two days, Jaehyun’s never been known to be a patient man. 

The silence that follows Jaehyun’s question is damning—the guilty looks and hollow smiles Jaehyun receives say more than what he’s sure they intend to. 

Nothing. 

They found _fucking nothing_. 

No strange thing found in Taeyong’s possessions, no weird internet search, no unusual midnight escapade, _nothing_. 

Fucking nothing that can explain what is going on. 

There’s not even a lead, nothing for them to look up into. 

Jaehyun feels an itch where his heart would be. Should be.   
  
He lets himself be dragged to a little coffee shop near their dorm. They try to lighten up the mood, they really do, they make some harmless jokes, they share some mindless gossip, Mark even talks about his _thing_ with Hyuck but it’s no use: all they get out of Jaehyun is dry answers and curt nods. 

It’s suffocating—knowing that Taeyong is okay, that he is safe but not knowing when, what or why is this happening. 

Powerless. He feels so powerless.

The itch at his heart moves to his lungs and to his ribs. Jaehyun can’t stay here. 

He fucking can’t stand here. He needs to breathe.

He needs to see Taeyong. Jaehyun needs—

He cuts the meeting short. There’s no time to feel sorry for the worried looks Johnny and Mark send his way. 

Jaehyun needs to see Taeyong. 

There was nothing more important to Jaehyun at the moment than him. 

The kid who’s clinging to his legs with tears pooling at the corner of his eyes from laughing too much. 

Jaehyun looks again at Taeyong—the pressure in his chest dissipating a little when he looks at the boy. 

Taeyong’s hair, once long enough to cover his eyes, is now in a horrible _uneven_ bowl cut. At each side of his head, some colorful and god awful hair-pins trying to hold up some revel short hairs wanting to move from their place. 

Walking behind him is Yuta, who’s laughing as hard as Taeyong. His hair too, in total disarray: half painted pink with his fringe shorter in the middle than at the other sides. 

They both look a mess. 

Still laughing, Taeyong takes Jaehyun’s hand on his; or at least he tries too, his little hand only managing to engulf Jaehyun’s thumb. 

“Pretty, right?” Asks Taeyong, grinning like the sun. 

Jaehyun tries not to think about adult Taeyong. He tries not to but it comes to him as easy as breathing. How his smile is a little more crooked now than when he was a kid, how his laugh is louder too but his voice is more quiet, mellow even. 

How, before this all happened, it had been weeks since Jaehyun’s seen Taeyong so...relaxed. 

It’s been awhile since his Taeyong looked like this. 

How ironic, Jaehyun thinks: in this relaxed mess, Taeyong also looks the most carefree he’s been in days. 

Taeyong never really did well in the face of uncontrolled mess—as an idol none of them are acostumbred of going off script, but Taeyong as the leader was not only forced to be almost business like in every interaction, he was also forced to be controlling, seduded, plain.

It never sat well with Taeyong. 

But right now, there’s no hard edges on his smiles, no deep creases on his forehead, no hardness on his eyes. Just carefree laughter and childish happiness. 

What would Jaehyun do to see Taeyong, _his_ Taeyong, smiling unapologetic like this. 

There’s a pull on Jaehyun’s pants. Taeyong’s still looking at him with big eyes but his smile quivers a little, “Jaehyunie?” 

That quiver, as little as it is, pulls Jaehyun back to the now. Be it as a child or as an adult. Does it really matter? 

They are all Taeyong. 

  
And for all that Jaehyun’s worth, he is going to let Taeyong keep smiling like this, just like this, as long as he can. 

Because Jaehyun loves Taeyong. Little, big, as a child or as an adult, here or away. Jaehyun loves him. With all his heart. 

When Jaehyun talks again, he smiles as big as Taeyong did a second ago. “Of course, Taeyongie always looks the prettiest. Would Taeyongie also do my hair?”

* * *

  
Jaehyun once read that every artist left a piece of their heart in each piece they made, he liked to think that to be true. 

Or at least it was true when the artist was someone like Taeyong. 

On nights where Jaehyun would miss Taeyong terribly, while older was away, Jaehyun would sleep in Taeyong’s room and use his drawings as lullabies. 

He would get lost in each stroke of color against Taeyong’s white walls, in each little trace he'd find some of Taeyong. In a weird way, it brought him some kind of comfort, like Taeyong was there. With him. Even if he couldn’t see him. 

The first time Taeyong painted on his walls was after their win against IU on Music Bank. They celebrated of course. Alcohol, greasy food and lots and lots of off-key sing-offs; a nice prize for the hard work of the last few days.

Of course they took advantage of it, days like these, where they are allowed to let their hair down and just be regular people didn't come often. 

It’s quite hazy, but the memory still is there. Jaehyun had stumbled into Taeyong’s room late into the night looking for him, only to find Taeyong drawing behind his door. 

Flushed cheeks, slurred words, pretty eyes. There were some black strokes on his fingers and face.   
Clicking his tongue at the interruption, Taeyong had chastised him for barging in unannounced while pinching Jaehyun’s red cheeks. 

_“I just missed you._ ” Jaehyun had answered, a drunken smile on his scarlet face. 

Taeyong had thrown a harmless punch to his arm before taking his hand, _“Why are you so cute today, huh? Come, let me show you something.”_

Written with black paint, behind the door was a phrase. No drawing, no colors, just a phrase.

_“Memories are everything?”_

The hold on Jaehyun’s hand tightened a bit, _“When I’m having a hard time, I like to look back at my favorite memories to recharge.”_

_“What’s your favorite one, then?”_

Taeyong humed, deep in thought, before letting out a small laugh. _“Haven’t I told you before?”_

_“No.”_

_“I’m sure I have.”_

Closing his eyes, skin tingling where Taeyong’s hand was resting, Jaehyun said, _“You haven’t.”_

 _“What a bad Hyung I am. Don’t you think so?”_ Jaehyun nods in silent reproach. With one last airy laugh and with his voice filled with honey, Taeyong gave in. _“When we went to Japan for the first time and saw the cherry blossoms.”_

Jaehyun opened his eyes, only to fix them on Taeyong’s face in drunken delight. He answered in a daze. “ _I took a picture of you._ ” 

A gentle smile bloomed on Taeyong’s lips, lighting up his eyes. “ _Another one of my favorites._ ” 

Over the years, Taeyong managed to plaster his walls with more quotes, some drawings and whatnots. It might look like a random selection of quirky things to some, but not to Taeyong. He never did things without meaning. 

_“Everything here, all of this, is me. Me and my memories.”_

Jaehyun’s favorite one was a drawing of Charlie Brown with a paper bag on his face. Quirky and catchy; painted beside Taeyong’s bed. Taeyong had jokingly said that it was a self portrait. Something about the way he said it—wet lips, glassy eyes—made Jaehyun have a soft spot for it. 

And, by the way little Taeyong has been staring at it since they arrived at his ( _Older_ Taeyong’s) room for bedtime, it looks like it’s his favorite one too. 

“I really like them, those drawings.” 

The hair clips on Taeyong’s black locks hang onto dear life as he nods enthusiastically, “Me too, me too!” 

“That one,” Jaehyun says, pointing with his head at the drawing Taeyong was admiring. The subtle move makes the blue hair-pins Taeyong adorned Jaehyun’s hair with, move to his forehead. “Is my favorite, too. I like to look at it when—”

_I miss you._

“Uh—” Biting the inside of his cheek, Jaehyun asks, like he didn’t almost make things weird. _Again_. “Aren’t you sleepy?” 

“No, no no.” Taeyong shakes his head furiously, his chopped bangs moving to his forehead.

“You are yawning.”

“Nope. Not true.” Taeyong shakes his head again, this time, mid-yawn. “I want to play more.” 

“Mmh, so you want to go at Hyuck’s and play some games?” 

With a pout, Taeyong says, petulant. “No. Don’t wanna.” 

“And why not?” 

”I want to play with Jaehyunie. I like Jaehyunie the most.” 

Jaehyun tries to fight the red colouring his cheeks. Is he really going to blush at the words of a 4 year-old? How does Taeyong as a kid have more game than him? Jaehyun clears his throat. “Fine, but if you fall asleep then what?”

Shaking his head, Taeyong show’s Jaehyun his pinky finger. And with all with all the confidence of a 4 year old with a ridiculous bowl-cut can muster, he says. “No sleep. I promise.”  
  
Despite his confidence and the _earth-bonding-almost-blood-oath pinky-promise_ they made Taeyong doesn’t last long: he falls asleep mid game.

For all his child-like stubbornness, he’s still the same old Taeyong, falling asleep at random places. This time it’s by Jaehyun’s feet with half the boy under the bed. Carefully, Jaehyun tries to pry his chubby fingers from his Nintendo Switch but it’s impossible—Kid Taeyong is surprisingly strong. 

Jaehyun has to almost drag Taeyong’s body under the bed, careful not to wake up the boy. It’s a good thing Taeyong’s alway sleeps like the dead. 

He presses a kiss to the top of his head before Jaehyun throws a glance at the words written at the back of the door. Slowly, he moves Taeyong’s sleeping body to the bed and lies next to him with his eyes fixed to the Charlie Brown’s drawing by the bed.

Jaehyun falls asleep with a smile adorning his face.   


* * *

  
When Jaehyun wakes the next day, it’s to the sound of someone tripping, followed by a high pitched wail of pain. 

  
Like one usually does.   
  
Still groggy, but with his heart trying to leap out of his chest Jaehyun reaches for Taeyong’s little body, trying to pull him closer to him. But Jaehyun grasps air.   
  
Taeyong’s not there. Taeyong’s.not.fucking.there.  
  
The surge of panic makes Jaehyun a little dizzy. He scrambles so, so fast from the bed, kicking the duvet and stuffed animals lying around him: he has to find him, he has to find Taeyong.   
  
Jaehyun’s about to scream at the top of his lungs when he spots something at the corner of his eye—There’s a figure hunching by the bed, looking at him.  
  
A very _naked_ figure hunching by Taeyong’s bed.   
  
Jaehyun lets out a small shriek of panic when the figure launches itself to Taeyong’s mattress. It climbs on top of him, pressing one bonny and cold finger to his lips.   
  
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.   
  
The shrill of terror flowing on his veins makes Jaehyun spring into action: Jaehyun takes the figure on top of him and turns it into its back. He presses one of his hands on the naked back of—  
  
Jaehyun blinks, and blinks again. The adrenaline rushing through his veins makes it a little complicated to adjust his vision into what is in front of him. But then he sees it: A mop of dark locks adorned with colorful hair pins, pouty lips, doe eyes.   
  
Doe eyes looking at him so tenderly despite the abumsh, that Jaehyun feels his heart grow twice its size.   
  
“Hyung?” Jaehyun blurts, his eyes roaming Lee Taeyong’s face. His beautiful, beautiful _adult_ face.   
  
“Jaehyun-ah. Fancy meeting you here.”   
  
Is he still asleep? Has Jaehyun finally lost it?  
  
Baffled, Jaehyun tries five times before any comprehensible words can come out of his mouth. When he does, it comes more like a mutter, “What? How? Are you…?”  
  
“I don’t know? I woke up and I was like this.” Taeyong lets out a choked up laugh when his eyes travel down Jaehyun’s face and then at the position they are in. He smiles, a wicked little thing. “So you can sleep with a shirt on.”   
  
“What?”  
  
“A shirt. You said sleeping with one made you feel stuffy. Remember when we slept together? You said you couldn’t wear one. But I see that’s not a problem anymore.” Taeyong hums, before he continues. “Wait, don’t tell me—” Taeyong’s voice turns higher in pitch, followed by a dramatic gasp. _Always the dramatic one. “_ Jaehyunie! you perv, what am I going to do with you?”  
  
One. Two. Three seconds of silence. And then, Jaehyun chokes: “What?”  
  
Jaehyun repeats it again, this time in utter disbelief, louder too. He feels the familiar Taeyong related red tint coming to color his cheeks due to embarrassment.   
  
What.the.fuck?  
  
The confusion must be painted all over Jaehyun’s face because Taeyong crackles his horrid laugh before winking, stopping Jaehyun’s useless blabber.   
  
He can’t believe it.   
  
He’s here.   
  
Taeyong, _his Taeyong._ He’s here.   
  
Jaehyun can see him here, but somehow, it doesn’t feel real.   
  
Unbeknownst to him, Jaehyun’s hands resting on Taeyong’s naked back shake a little.   
  
“Not that I don’t enjoy you having me like his Jaehyunie but,” Under him, Taeyong shakes his body a little, making the red on Jaehyun’s cheeks burn brighter. “I would very much rather you do this while I can see your face.”   
  
With shaky legs and hands, Jaehyun moves from Taeyong’s body and settles next to him. Blindly, Jaehyun searches for something to cover Taeyong’s naked (naked!) body. His hands find something soft (it turns to be a pink rabbit, Taeyong’s favorite plushie), Jaehyun hands it to Taeyong without looking at the older.  
  
Taeyong lets out an amused chuckle. He taps Jaehyun’s shoulder when he’s done covering himself.   
  
There’s still a mischievous glint in his eyes, but Taeyong’s voice is the gentlest Jaehyun’s ever heard when the older says, “I’m glad to be back.”   
  
“Hyung, you remember...?” Jaehyun whispers, not moving an inch from his place on his bed, his fingers curling in the sheets—Aching, scared.   
  
If he does move, would Jaehyun’s arms wrap around someone who isn’t there?   
  
He doesn’t know what he’d do if that’d be the case.   
  
“Not a lot but,” murmurs Taeyong quietly. He points at his fringe and he adds with a laugh, “I know Yuta butchered my hair. I know I did yours too.”   
  
There’s a little smile pulling at Jaehyun’s lips when he catches the tender one on the older’s face. The emptiness he had been feeling at the pit of his stomach for days and that Jaehyun hadn’t been able to put a name to, is being filled with the sound of Taeyong’s airy laughs.   
  
Jaehyun’s hands move to the blue hair-pins still pulling his hair. Taeyong continues.  
  
“I know you took good care of me. I knew you would. I told you you’d be a good dad, didn’t I?” Another smile, this one toothless, cheeky. “As expected from our Jaehyunie.”   
  
Jaehyun shakes his head, he presses his chin to his chest in embarrassment. He asks, “How do you feel?”   
  
“Well, it’s kind of weird, I spent the last few days at eye level with people’s shins, so, so far I feel good. Although...”  
  
At that, Jaehyun raises his head in alertness. His eyes travel from Taeyong’s face and body looking for any sign of visible injury. Jaehyun’s quiet inspection is cut short when cold fingers takes jaw and turn his head to look directly at obsidian eyes.   
  
“I’d feel better if you would look at me Jaehyunie.”   
  
_‘Oh, how much I love this man.’_ Jaehyun thinks as his hyung hesitatingly leans closer to Jaehyun's red face. ‘ _How much I missed him.’_  
  
“I’m home, Jaehyun-ah.”  
  
Taeyong stops only when he’s so close that every breath he takes might as well be Jaehyun’s.   
  
How much he craved to hear him, calling Jaehyun’s name like this, just like this.  
  
“I missed you. So much.” One of them whispers. Jaehyun’s not sure if it was him or Taeyong. Or maybe both.   
  
Their breaths mingle together as they both repeat those words. One, twice, thrice.   
  
And when their lips meet...Jaehyun finds himself letting go. There’s no more pressure on his chest, just the swell of his heart at feeling Taeyong’s lips on his. There’s no more doubts, just Taeyong’s scent clouding his mind.   
Jaehyun takes Taeyong’s face in his hands, as gently as one would do with a precious gem or a delicate glass figure. He moves closer, impossibly so, until Jaehyun can feel Taeyong’s warm body molding into every nook of his body.   
  
Against Taeyong’s red, bitten lips Jaehyun finally whispers the words he couldn’t say when they last parted. He whispers them again, and again, across Taeyong’s lips, his cheeks, his scar. Against his smile.  
  
“I love you petal. I love you. I love you.” He chants. Over and over again.   
  
The blush that taints Taeyong’s face is one image that Jaehyun’s sure is going to be with him until his last day.   
  
And Taeyong, Taeyong whispers it back, with that soft voice of his that sounds like a melody.   
  
They kiss, and then they kiss some more. The second turns into minutes, then they turn into hours, the lilac sky turns into bright blue but Jaehyun can’t get enough.   
  
He’ll never get enough of Taeyong’s taste.   
  
Jaehyun tries to paint a constellation of love bites all over Taeyong’s exposed skin, but there’s something hanging at the back of his mind, and like the tingle of Jaehyun’s skin wherever Taeyong touches, it’s impossible to ignore it.   
  
He has to know.   
  
It’s really difficult but Jaehyun manages to break one of their kisses to ask against Taeyong’s lips, worried. “But what happened.”   
  
“What do you mean?”   
  
“I mean–How could this have happened? How did you-?”   
  
Taeyong hums, his body rumbles as he thinks about it before pressing a kiss to Jaehyun’s nose. “Remember that time I went with Donghyuck to Hongdae and we brought some matching necklaces?”  
  
Jaehyun frowns, wrecking his brain to try to remember what Taeyong’s talking about. While Jaehyun thinks, Taeyong busies himself pressing kisses on Jaehyun’s cheeks, dimples, eyelashes.  
  
Ah.   
  
“The little clock pendant?”   
  
Another kiss, followed by a nod. And then, “Well about that…”  


* * *

  
  
A day before their comeback, Taeyong’s phone rings at 4AM.   
  
Jaehyun groans in annoyance and even considers rejecting the call and shutting the phone down, but decides against it when he sees the caller ID.  
  
Mark.   
  
His voice is like rapid fire. A string of frantic English and Korean words pierce through the quiet of Jaehyun’s room. He is so loud he even manages to wake Taeyong, who was passed out next to Jaehyun.   
  
“What’s w—?”   
  
“Donghyuck…he…he—“

Mark's frantic rambling are cut by a loud, painful cry. A child's cry. 

Well, shit. 

**Author's Note:**

> Important info, references, inspiration :
> 
> \- The question: “5 Taeyongs or 5 year old Taeyong?”  
> \- SHINee's Hello Baby (specially the one episode where they try to give the baby a piggy ride, a mess)  
> \- The words and drawing's on Taeyong's walls are real. And he does have "Memories are everything" painted at the back of his door.  
> \- The book Yuta reads baby Taeyong is also a real one. I found it on a Korean site for books. It sounds messed up tho.  
> \- 10th floor drinking on wine glasses it's from their yt channel on their 10th floor special episode.  
> -I know JH has now a new phone, but let's pretend he still has the one with the fucked up glass.  
> \- TY and JH back and forth while TY paints his door is heavily inspired by that one passage from "The song of Achilles".  
> \- The picture of TY under the cherry blossoms being one of his favorite memories is a true fact. He shared it on bubble. (JH also taking the picture is true.)  
> \- The "JH imagines (...) so much it almost feels like a memory" It's from Hamilton.  
> \- There's this Wangxian fic that I stumbled upon, called: Little Happiness written by Suspicious_Popsicle. It's perfect and the standard for very de-aging au. It helped me decide for this trope  
> \- I listened to a lot of happy love songs for this fic so bear with me if it's too sweet.  
> Thank you for all your Kudos and comments, they mean a lot to me!


End file.
